


Bad Dreams

by fuskar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Sirius is sad, and an abuse victim, i guess, light fluff, so ehm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuskar/pseuds/fuskar
Summary: Sometimes dreams hit harder than they should.





	Bad Dreams

Sirius woke up with a start. Looking around he relaxed, of course he was still in the dormitory, he had just been dreaming. Still the dream was vivid within his mind, mixed with just as vivid scenes of his past so alike he could barely tell them apart. He had not even noticed the tears that were silently flowing from his eyes until he put his hand up to his face to try to urge away the memories. With rough hands he wiped away the tears and squeezed his eyes shut. He was not to cry, he thought, a proper Black did not cry.

But that only made the tears flow harder. How could he still take their words into consideration? Even after all these years knowing how absolutely horrid his family’s values were and how they had treated him for not thinking likewise, a part if him still sought their validation. A part of him still listened to the words they said about him. A part of him saw himself like they saw him, as a failure, a disappointment.

But no, that was not who he was. He was more than that. He was a great friend, a nice person, a decent man.

_ But are you really? _ That little part of him supplied. _ You do pranks that are on the edge of mean, you are practically a bully, you make life difficult for as good as every teacher at school. Is that how to be a nice person, a decent man? And how much of a friend are you when you prioritise yourself, when you never take your so-called friends into consideration? How much of a friend are you when you steal the spotlight? When you talk too much about yourself? When you cannot help Remus? _

The tears did not seem like they would ever cease flowing so Sirius stopped his futile attempts to wipe them away. Normally by now he would have crept into James’s bed, his best friend would have woken up and then held him as he fell asleep sobbing. But not this time. Sirius felt like he did not deserve the comfort, the little part of him had started to grow and he had started to believe its thoughts.

Miserable he shoved his face into the pillow as silent sobs tore through his body. He did not know how long he lay with his head in the pillow, but eventually the need for air became too much and he had to resurface. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again were a pair of legs and Sirius froze. He did not want to be comforted; he did not feel like he deserved it. Though as he met the worried eyes of his friend a part of him wanted to just be held and forget all his worries.

“Go back to sleep Remus, I’m fine”, he said quietly to not wake the other sleeping boys.

Remus did not say anything, nor did he go back to his bed. Instead he lifted up the cover and got into the bed next to Sirius. An arm came to rest above Sirius’s hip and a hand clasped the, still damp, hand that was now in between the two boys. Sirius closed his eyes. It felt so good to be comforted and taken care of, but he still felt unworthy of it. He was supposed to comfort Remus was he not? Remus was the one with the werewolf condition and the fear of not being accepted, and now he was comforting Sirius. That made Sirius feel like even more of an awful human being and the tears that had just begun to subside started flowing again.

Remus moved closer and pressed Sirius against him in more of a proper hug, pressing his lips to the boys forehead. This made Sirius’s tears flow even harder and even if the thoughts were still there, even if his mind was screaming at him that he did not deserve this, he still scooted just a little bit closer to his friend and let himself fall apart in the arms of someone he fully trusted.

Nothing was alright, he was not magically happy or rid of all the horrible memories. But in the moment he could close his eyes, let go and just feel. Because no matter how awful he felt right now he knew that there would be moments he would feel better, where those thought would not matter. That moment would not be now in the arms of a friend, maybe not even the next day or the next week, but he knew it would come. Eventually, he would be alright.


End file.
